


Ramble

by cyndrarae



Series: Snapshots!verse [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Not X3-compliant, Possibly Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndrarae/pseuds/cyndrarae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is drunk. Logan is conflicted. Jean is still dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ramble

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble to go in-between the events of X2 and X3. Very mildly pre-slash. The poem is a favorite of mine, Circles of Doors by Carl Sandburg.

**

 

"And she sent him word she loved him so much…"   
  
Logan half dragged half shoved him up the stairs. He was tempted to just scoop him up, make it easier on himself, not like the kid would notice.   
  
"So much… and… and death was nothing… all was nothing if… if… what was it again?"   
  
Logan didn’t reply, not that he knew what in hell the kid was on about. He just kept walking down the corridor till they reached the last door.   
  
"Was her favorite… reminded her of us… when we… kids…"   
  
Laughter... a short empty desolate sound that made Logan wish he was deaf. He pushed the door open and led them inside. Switched on the light and that's when the boy tried to run.   
  
"Nooo!! No! No, please… doors, no end of doors…"   
  
The older mutant pursed his lips thin, steeled his heart and ignored the pleas. Sat the kid down on the bed he used to share with Jean, held him still when he struggled and harder still when he started to topple. Pulled the rain-soaked jacket off roughly, then the boots and shirt.   
  
"Sometimes her whisper, sometimes only… only… laughter…"   
  
Lay him down before his collars got grabbed.   
  
"I’m not crazy."   
  
Logan stiffened, face inches away from face… close enough to see droplets of water shining in damp auburn hair, running down chiseled jaw and onto heaving sternum. Streaking from quartz encased eyes to quivering red lips. The boy gasped then, frozen and reeking of fear so terrible, it sent shivers up Logan’s spine.   
  
"Shhh. Hear that?"   
  
Logan swallowed, prying his collar loose and pressed him down thwarting another attempt to escape.   
  
"Sleep, kid." 

"How can I? She won’t let me. Not until…"

"Until what?"   
  
Silence. So lost and broken, Logan just couldn’t stop himself. Gently, he finger-combed unruly locks back from the forehead, hoping he didn’t wake with a fever to go with one hell of a hangover. Against all self-preservational instincts, he undid the jeans and abruptly tugged both the wet boxers and denim off. Then grabbed the blankets and covered him up to the chin and rose, not thinking how beautiful he was. 

Not thinking anything at all.   
  
"Doors on doors. Circles of doors. Five or ten or… do you see her? Do you see her Logan?"   
  
Logan sighed, sat back down. He replaced his hand in the soft hair.

Caressed it.   
  
"Yeah. I see her."   
  
Scott settled. As if that's all he needed to hear... for someone to agree with him, assure him he wasn't losing his mind. Or so Logan guessed.

The outstretched hand slowly lowered, though still pointing meekly at something in the far distance.   
  
"… looking glasses, room to room hunt… ends… opening into new ends… always…" 

 

  
***   
  
A/N: Let me know what you think?? 


End file.
